


polar

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Drabble Sequence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 19:42:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15517209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Rabé has never been afraid of the dark.Or: life after Padmé.





	polar

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 

 

 

 

 

Rabé has never been afraid of the dark. The unknown, perhaps, but that ended quickly when she entered the cold, unending vastness of space with a single purpose: to protect the Queen of Naboo by any means necessary, even at the cost of her own life.

 

 

 

The end of Queen Amidala’s reign does not come abruptly, or without warning. All the same, Rabé witnesses its passing and grieves, privately, knowing that, for a time, her people were in the hands of a woman she will always consider royalty—a woman who she would trust with her whole heart.

 

 

 

Sabé and the other handmaidens disperse: some remain on Naboo to serve the new queen or to enter into another position of protection; others leave their homeworld and take to the stars, towards the Senate to become an aide again or to find a new line of work.

None of them are allowed to remain with Padmé. Rabé knows this because, shortly before Senator Amidala’s departure, she heard Sabé ask, softly—just once—if she could accompany her to Coruscant. Sabé came to Rabé afterwards, her smile wavering. Rabé understood; given the choice, they both would have gone with Padmé. Until the end.

 

 

 

Rabé chooses war over Naboo, knowing that, if she doesn’t, it will choose her anyway. She joins a task force that works in tandem with clone armies, meant to clear out remnants of skulking droids on dust-choked worlds, to help the population reestablish itself after being stung and scattered by invading Separatists.

 

 

 

Rabé pretends she doesn’t dream. But she does. Of the Senator, mostly, either wreathed in starlight or caught up in the freezing dark. When she doesn’t dream of Padmé, the stage is different: they’re under the familiar stretch of soft blue sky belonging to Naboo, the spires of palaces and monuments rising up all around. A crowd of robed, hooded figures stands in the main square, and there is an empty space—a gaping hole she instinctively moves to fill. But she is never able to go to them. The dark always swallows her up.

 

 

 

Padmé Amidala dies, and the universe stills. It holds its breath as the handmaidens, one by one, come together. Both the old entourages and the new.

When Rabé arrives back on Theed after two years of not seeing home, Sabé is the one to greet her. She falls into the former decoy’s arms, her knees threatening to give out. Behind her, she can see the others—Eirtaé, Saché, Yané, Dané, Fé, Dormé, Moteé, Ellé, Umé, Hollé, Miré—gathered, darkly quiet in their mourning, save for Eirtaé’s stifled weeping and Fé’s poor attempts to quiet her sobs. The sight of them and others, their eyes either red or rimmed with shadows, brings on another stab of grief.

Rabé glances up, swallowing thickly. There is no sun in the sky.

 

 

 

The handmaidens attend both the procession and the burial. The hardest part is turning away, to head back into the heart of Theed. Rabé almost doesn’t; something catches in her chest as the tomb is sealed, threatening to undo her, but Sabé touches her shoulder gently. Reminding her.

Rabé reluctantly turns, taking Sabé’s hand as they begin the journey back.

 

 

 

Clasping hands in the dark, the handmaidens leave the ruins of the Republic behind. The Rebellion, bright in the distance, looms ahead. They follow Bail Organa to that light, that hope.

Rabé wishes Padmé, and Naboo, farewell.

The universe exhales.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
